


untitled for dirtygaysex

by niksthename



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-30
Updated: 2011-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-21 23:38:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niksthename/pseuds/niksthename





	untitled for dirtygaysex

It happened too fast, but not fast enough. He saw it almost as if in slow motion. Even Darwin, for as amazing as his mutation was, could not adapt to the little ball of energy shoved down his throat. Alex could only watch in frozen terror as Darwin threw him one last, lonely, apologetic look before slowly disintegrating. Had it not been for Hank grabbing him last minute and sprinting away to safety, Alex's sorrow would have left him glued to the spot and Darwin's explosion would have taken them both. Alex wasn't so sure he really wanted to thank Hank for that.  
~~~  
Hank started running the second he saw Darwin swallow the ball of pure energy. It wasn't a huge mental leap to know what was going to happen next... or maybe it was? He turned around to see Alex still standing there, watching Darwin slowly die. Hank couldn't very well leave him. He kicked off his shoes, freeing his feet, and ran towards Alex, wrapping himself around the smaller man before turning and sprinting full speed from the building. He was well out of range when it exploded. Hank found the others on a bench by the rubble and he gently set Alex down by Raven. Alex had a dazed look on his face. A slight frown curled his slender lips and his eyes were glazed over with misunderstanding, sorrow, and guilt. Hank could hardly bear to look at his face and turned away, making some excuse about “surveying the debris.” The comment was more for himself than anyone else. As he was turning away, Hank felt a hand catch his wrist and he quickly looked back, seeing Alex and trying to suppress the small jump in his chest. Alex, who was staring at him blankly, spoke a short “Thank you, Hank” before returning to his frozen state. Hank barely heard the words, only saw Alex's soft lips, wet with tears. He turned away, unable to suffer seeing any more.  
– – –   
Hank dropped two duffel bags of new clothes by the door. They had all gone shopping since their clothes were destroyed in the explosion. The whole time Alex hadn't really done anything. He just stood there with that blank look on his face. Once Hank had finally gotten him to tell him what size clothes he wore, Hank basically did the shopping himself and left Alex sitting by the dressing rooms until he was done.

He turned back to the door in Charles's family house, seeing what he pretty much expected. Alex was standing there, hands in pockets, glazed-over look on beautiful eyes, gaze turned downwards. It seemed almost like an almost contemplative pose, the kind you would make when trying to remember why you walked into a particular room, only Alex was holding it for far too long. Hank had already tried talking to him like nothing was wrong, but it wasn't fooling anyone. No one else had the patience to deal with Alex's comatose state, so Hank was left to essentially baby-sit him. Hank paused for only a second as these thoughts ran through his head before turning to guide Alex into the room. He wrapped his arm around Alex's waist, barely even thinking about it. Had Alex been himself, he never would have gotten away with it. Either way, Hank guided him towards one of the two beds, choosing to leave Alex at the one next to the window. He left him to figure out the rest by himself.

Alex was only completely incapable for a few days. Unless Hank actually took the time to drag him out of bed and dress him, Alex just stayed in the soft sheets all day, laying on his side and staring out the window. Hank knew he wasn't sleeping. The dark circles under his eyes and sobbing at night made that obvious enough. It ripped hank up to see Alex's pain, to watch at night as his body shook and sobs tore through his chest. Hank started staying up as late as mutantly possible so he could pass out as soon as he hit the bed.

One night, Hank wandered in, exhausted, eyes dry and tired, lids heavy, and saw Alex's covers were in a mess on the floor. He automatically moved to gather the sheets and blankets and spread them over Alex again, pulling them all the way up to Alex's neck. Hank let his fingers linger for only a moment as they brushed Alex's damp cheek before pulling back. Alex, like always, didn't look at him, or even move. Hank lay down in his own bed and was almost a sleep when Alex spoke.

“It was my fault.”

“What?” mumbled Hank, trying to wake back up.

“It was my fault.” he repeated flatly.

“What was, Alex?”

“Darwin's... it was my fault. I killed him. Me. My fault.”

“No, no no no, it was Shaw, Alex. No one could have known what he was capable of, it was his fault.

“But it was me. He used me. My...”

“Plasma energy rays.”

“- against him. I did it. It was my fault. I should have just left it. I should have just let them leave. He wouldn't be dead. We'd still be together.”

Alex's last sentence left Hank painfully away and the conversation ruthlessly final.

~~~

After that, Alex was a little more aware. He was up and walking around, although not doing much. He conversed with the others on a basic level of “yeah,” “oh,” and “mhm.” He was, in the slimmest sense of the word, functional. Yet he still harbored the glazed-over look. A few days after Hank and Alex's midnight chat, the outbursts started.

The first time, Alex had asked Charles if he could begin training. Charles has, perhaps wisely, said no, that Alex wasn't ready yet. Ales hung his head and started walking away, Hank only a few steps behind him and looking sadly over his shoulder at Charles. A worried look crossed Charles' face and Hank turned back to Alex just catching a glimpse of a red flash by and die away. A split second later Charles had floored him as a red ray flew over their heads and Alex dropped to his knees, sobs erupting from his lips. Hank threw Charles a worried glance before kicking off his shoes and running Alex back to bed quickly.

For the next few days, Alex's little tantrums sprung up at random throughout the day and night. Hank kept a close eye on him, trying to predict when it would happen. It wasn't always enough though. One night Hank was nearly sawed in half. Charles, who was the only one capable of really knowing when an outburst was about to occur, had mentally awakened Hank and moved him out of the way, leaving only the bed in pieces.

It happened again the next night at dinner.

“Can I please ask everyone to pick up their plates and cups and duck. Oh, and Erik, move to your left please.” Charles paused. “Quickly, thank you.”

Everyone questioningly did as they were told and not a minute later a sob tore from Alex's throat and a few rays cut through the table like circular saws. Erik lost a small chuck of his right sleeve. Charles furrowed his brow.

“Shame, I rather fancied that shirt, Erik. Can you all finish in the living room? I think I need to have a chat with Hank and Alex.”

Everyone quietly stood to leave, throwing nervous glances at Alex as they left. Erik paused to lay a hand on Charles' shoulder before heading in the direction of Charles' study and personal chambers. Charles stood and moved towards where Hank and Alex remained seated. He didn't sit. For an agonizing few minutes, Charles simple looked at them contemplatively. Finally, he sighed deeply and turned to Alex.

“Alex, for the safety of the others, and, quite frankly, my house, I'm moving you to the bunker until you are ready to start training.”

Hank frowned as he started thinking about packing and where the hell their duffle bags had gone when Charles continued, interrupting his thoughts.

“You will stay down there or in the field until you are clam again. You may not come in the house. Hank, you will stay here. I need your help with cerebro more than Alex needs you to fold his clothes. You may take him to the bunker, but I expect you back in an hour. We need to talk further. Now, I'm off for a game of chess and a drink. Hank, you will find me in my study. Goodnight, Alex.”

Before hank could protest, Charles was leaving. He made sure to throw some loud mental insults his way before turning to help Alex up to the bedroom and then out to the bunker.

~~~

About 45 minutes later, Hank was knocking lightly on the door to Charles study, the door brushing open slightly as he did so. Charles' back was to him as he sat in a high-backed chair, gazing thoughtfully at the fire.

“Come in and sit, Hank.”

Hank walked towards the second chair, looking around nervously. He subconsciously cataloged the books, sorting them into “read” and “unread” as well as “must-haves.” When he finally sat, Charles' voice disturbed his thoughts.

“Yes, it is quite nice, isn't it?”

“Hmm? What?” Hank asked, slowly bringing his attention away from books and Alex and back to the professor.

“You need to focus on me now Hank. I want to talk to you about Alex.” Hank shifted nervously in the large chair.

“What-” he cleared his throat. “What about him?”

“Please, be honest with me Hank. I don't want to go poking around up there without giving you fair chance to share first.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Hank.” Charles' voice had a warning ring to it. “Why are you so doting on him? I haven't seen you get an ounce of angry with him, especially after Darwin.”

Hank cringed at the words, but still reused to say anything.

“Hank, you think I'm judging you? I of all people? Neither Erik nor I are in any place to judge how you feel.”

Hank sighed. He understood Charles was trying to drop hints, and that made him feel a little better.

“It's nothing, it doesn't matter.” He said quietly, looking away.

“It does matter, Hank. You haven't left his side since the building exploded. I've seen you. You try to do as much out-of-lab work as possible just to stay by his side in your room, and your work is suffering because of it. I need you to focus on now, on your work, on the upcoming war. You cannot be devoting all your time to someone who does not appreciate your efforts.”

Hank shook his head and looked away, almost as if in shame.

“He's got no one else though. Who else is going to leave him clean clothes? Who else here is going to put the blankets back on him after he's kicked them off during a nightmare? Who's going to look after him until he's better?”

“These are all good points Hank but I'm not sure he appreciates them like you think he does. He does not respond to your efforts because he cannot face the fact that it is you, and not Darwin, doing them. He would rather see Darwin loving him the way you do, but Darwin is not here, and he can't handle that. You must distance yourself Hank. Allow him time to move on and accept while you focus on your work.”

a frown crossed his face as Hank pondered leaving Alex alone in that stupid bunker, that cold, stupid bunker. Then again, Charles was right. He had already down Alex wanted Darwin, and not him, but he couldn't admit it.

“Charles, do you... do you know if... if Alex and Darwin...” he couldn't bring himself to finish his thought aloud.

“Yes. Quite frankly, is surprises Erik that you didn't know. It almost seems like you were ignoring it, so you didn't have to know.”

For the first time, Charles actually looked at him, sympathy and sorrow written into his face. He must have seen the pain, sorrow, and denial in Hank's face as well, for he did not push it further.

“Return to your work my friend, and distance yourself.”

Hank stood to leave, the conversation suddenly very dead.

~~~

(Charles' POV)

Charles was wrong about Hank and Alex both. Hank, while back working solidly in the lab, wasn't really accomplishing anything. For all the work he did, his math was riddled with errors, his ideas sub-par, and his over-all effort lackluster. No one bothered to comment because they didn't see the errors Hank was making. Only Charles' mind was learned enough to catch the mistakes, and it left him disappointed in Hank, but also angry with himself. Charles had thought that by pulling Hank and Alex apart, both would learn some independence and be ready all the sooner to join the team again. Hank's work alone proved him miserably wrong.

About 2 weeks after Charles had “banished”, as Hank called it, Alex to the bunker, Charles found Hank staring out a window absently with tea cooling lazily on the windowsill. It was growing dark, and the sky was stuck in the phase of transition between day and night when it is a lazy dark indigo that casts a sleepy feel over the landscape. Without warning, a burst of red disrupted a cloudless sky. Charles furrowed his brow and promptly re-directed his path towards the window, stopping to stand behind Hank's seat. He thought for a second, his concerns interrupted by another streak of red.

“Was that-”

his question was cut short by a choked crack of voice from Hank. He seemed suddenly reanimated as he answered the professors question before it was even finished.

“Alex.”

Charles knew almost anyone could hear the tension, longing, and slight panic lacing Hank's raw, hurt voice. If he were a weaker man, Charles would have cringed at the sound of Hank's words.

“He's been doing that for at least an hour and a half now. Its getting more frequent.”

“Is this the first time Hank?”

“No.” he croaked. “He's been doing that for the last 9 days.”

Charles didn't bother to ask. He could see, deep in Hank's mind, that Hank watched this every day. Kept tabs on it.

“Yesterday he went almost 5 hours. But today... Today its more frequent.”

Red illuminated his face. His voice wavered.

“If he's not careful he'll bring the building in on himself.”

Charles reached out a hand and rested it on Hank's shoulder. He was half expecting Hank to pull away, but Hank knew better. He understood Alex's forced isolation, and that was almost worse. He'd resigned himself to it, refused to think it wrong, as wrong as it made him feel. But still, Charles did not fold.

“He must stay out there Hank. If he's to get any better, he must stay out there and calm himself on his own. When he's calm for the night, I'll have Raven bring him dinner and more blankets. Tomorrow, don't watch.”

With nothing more to say, he turned to leave, doing his best to ignore Hank's loud, sad thoughts.

“Charles?”

he paused, but didn't turn.

“Yes Hank?”

“He needs me.”

It wasn't said like a statement of fact. It was said like a beg, a sad beg for something that one should not have to beg for. It sounded like schoolchildren begging for books. As though it was known he was needed, but for some reason, he wasn't where he needed to be.

“I know Hank, but he needs to learn to cope without you.”

“But he's not coping without me.”

They both knew it was true, but Hank was the only one desperate enough to admit it. Charles strolled away, his shoulders heavy, and retired to his study for a game of chess. He had more pressing matters to think about, and Alex was not at the top of his list.  
\--  
The next night, Charles all but dragged Hank back into the mansion, just barely catching him on his way out.

“What on earth are you doing Hank? I told you to stay here.” he was barely hiding his disapproving tone.

“No. No Charles you don't understand he's been going at it for 6 hours now he's going to collapse the bunker!”

“Hank, he's going to be fine. Go back to your lab. Remember the suits you were supposed to finish tonight? Go finish them and refrain from watching Alex.”

“No. I know he's been at it, I don't have to watch I just know!!” He fell to his knees, contorting away from Charles' hand like it was a lead weight on his shoulder. He started to sob.

“Charles please you have to let me go see him you have to! He'll get hurt, hell, he is hurt. He needs me! Please Charles, I promise I'll work hard tomorrow I'll do more just please let me see him.”

His pleas nearly broke Charles' heart. Hank sounded like he was begging his captor to stop torture. If Charles' really made him feel that way, he needed to stop. He lifted his hand from Hank's shoulder.

“You may go out there if you wish, but you MUST have some way to protect yourself. You can't work tomorrow if you're dead. Do you understand?”

the question had no sooner left his lips than Hank was sprinting towards the bunker, thoughts to focused on alexalexeverythingalexmustgettoalexnownownow for Charles to decipher anything else. He followed quickly, continuing to search Hank's mind in hopes that he wasn't just running into danger blind.

~~~

As soon as Charles' hand had lifted from his shoulder, Hank started sprinting towards the bunker, all thoughts focused solely on getting to Alex. He paused only to kick off his shoes so as to run faster and was at the bunker in seconds flat, Charles still far behind him. He narrowly dodged a ray headed for his neck and ran into the bunker, which was already starting to crumble. Another ray through the ceiling crumbled a section of the concrete and re-bar, bringing it down between him and Alex. It didn't stop him from trying to get to Alex's side. Alex, who was crying out pitifully, laid on the rough ground. Each time a ray swirled around him it dug a little more concentrate out from under him, sinking him into a scratchy hole, making his body look broken as he shook from his tears. Hank was almost broken by the sight, but he didn't stop. Finally over the pile of ruble, he knelt gently by Alex's side, attempting to avoid ray after ray, but getting hit by a few narrow misses. He slid into the hole with Alex, pulling him up so his back was to Hank's chest. Almost immediately Alex calmed, leaning back into Hank as his tears worsened. For a split moment, Hank was warmed by the thought that he could bring Alex even a moment of peace, but his hope was shattered quickly.

“Darwin?”

the single word crushed Hank's resolve. He was only moments from crying himself, and this made it worse.

“No. No Alex it's Hank. Darwin's... Darwin is gone.”

it hurt even more to remind Alex of this, to have to salt a clearly open wound. Alex shook and cried a second more before miraculously quieting, reduced to sniffles.

“I know Hank. I know.”

It took all Hank had in him not to sob into Alex's shoulder. He pulled him closer and held him as he sniffled for a few minutes. He didn't know how much later it was, but soon Charles was tapping his shoulder. He looked wary and tired.

“Hank, I told you not to go unless you were safe.”

Hank blinked up at him for a moment before registering what Charles was talking about.

“Oh. Right. No I did Charles. I made this... this suit that could keep me safe from Alex's rays. At least, it was designed to. I was going to test it tonight actually. Looks like it held up pretty good.” He shook off his battered shirt and revealed a skin-tight, sporty looking top.

Charles just about smacked him upside the head. “And what if it hadn't worked Hank? What if he'd have killed you, did you think about that? Did it even flit across your incredible mind what it would have done to him to know he had killed you?”

Hank looked taken aback and only hugged Alex closer.

“Hank?”

Both Charles and Hank looked at Alex. They had almost forgotten he was there. Almost.

“Yes, Alex?”

“I'm sorry.”

“No no no Alex, don't be sorry. Don't be sorry for anything, everything's ok, you're ok, we're fine. Don't be sorry.”

“I knew it wasn't him, but I wanted it to be. I'm sorry.”

Charles didn't have to ask to know what Alex was talking about. The scene lingered so openly on Hank's mind he was practically broadcasting it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Many hours later, Hank and Alex were sitting in the lab. Alex was sitting on a stool, slouched forward with an air of depression hanging on his shoulders. Hank steadfastly avoided looking anywhere near him as he worked. He needed to work; it was enough that Charles had let him bring Alex back in to the house, let alone provide him with an inevitable distraction. After a few minutes, he finished putting something together and finally turned around to face Alex.

“Alex?”

“Hmm?”

“I uh... I made something for you.”

“That's great Hank.”

“Do you want to see what it is?”

“Not especially. I don't have the patience for your dorkiness right now Hank.”

“It might help you... cope.”

Alex finally looked up.

“Fine. What is it?”

At least he was back to his usual snarky self, even if he was a bit... down. Hank handed him a tight-fitting shirt. It was dark gray and had small ridges running over it, down to small squares at the hem. Alex eyed it suspiciously.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, annoyed.

“Its a shirt.”

“No shit dumbass.”

“It stops the rays and turns them into energy. It stores it in batteries to be used later. Point being, it stops the rays when you have an out-burst.” He smiled slightly.

“That's great Hank, but no thanks.”

“Why not? Do you want to go back out to the bunker?” His tone was incredulous.

“You don't get it Hank. Its... its not about the release, its about the destruction.” he paused and sighed heavily, fingers massaging at the back of his neck. “Its... its like, by destroying something, I can prove I'm tough. That I don't have to just suffer.”

It was the most Alex had talked in 8 months.

“Well here, I've got a better idea then.” Hank reached for another shirt, this one with a large, mechanized circle in the middle of the chest. “This one won't stop the rays, but it'll focus them. Control.”

Alex looked back at him and took the shirt. He didn't seem to know what to think of it.

“I... if you don't like it I'll just... I'll make something else out of it. Spare parts for cerebro... you never know.”

Hank felt kind of defeated, but not entirely surprised. They were coming on 9 months since Darwin had died, and in all that time Alex had given Hank the emotionally cold shoulder. Hank had been there for him, but Alex almost never gave any sign that he appreciated it in the slightest. It made Hank sad that he could no longer feel as hurt by it. He was about to take the shirt back from Alex when Alex pulled it on. Hank froze and watched as Alex marveled at it.

“Thank you, Hank.”

The rest of the afternoon, Alex was doing target practice with trees outside and screaming every time he took a shot. Long, agonized screams. Hank stayed in his lab, watching, and lost in his thoughts.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Charles walked in to the lab, careful to avoid anything that looked remotely harmful or delicate. Hank was huddled over a very delicate looking piece of machinery, a tiny screwdriver in an ever so slightly shaky hand.

“That cannot be good for your back my friend.”

Charles approached him quietly and settled a hand on Hank's shoulder. The touch itself was light, but the implications were heavy and Hank's shoulders tensed minutely before he slumped forward, sighed, and turned to face Charles.

Hank was a pale person by default, but not this kind of pale. This kind of pale spoke of an overworked mind, a definite lack of sleep and nourishment, and far too many years of failure squeezed in to far too little time. Dark crescents framed puffy eyes, eyes that had once been bright with knowledge and intelligence and were now matte with tension and anguish. What had once been soft, wavy, full hair was now oily and limp and gross. Cheeks were sallow and ill-looking, composure was weak, and any sign that Hank cared about himself was lost in his overall look of failure. Charles searched his mind, one of the few times he did so without permission, and found none of the previous intelligence. It had been replaced with a few wandering equations, exhaustion, and worry.

“What do you need Charles?”

Need. Because only Hank would assume that whatever had brought Charles to him was spurred by some sort of need.

“Come up to dinner for once. You look as though you could use the food, at the very least.”

“Charles no I have work to do down here. I'll eat later.”

“Alex will be there.”

“I know.” That's why I don't want to go.

Charles understood. He could hear what Hank could not say, and he decided not to push it. He turned to leave, pausing in the doorway but not turning.

“I want to thank you Hank. That shirt you made him seemed to have... set him on track, shall we say? He's still angry or hurt sometimes, but he's moving beyond it. He's training with regularity, he's getting stronger, he's... he's smiling again.”

Hank slouched in despair. It would just figure that Charles would know the exact few words to nail his coffin. Without much thought, he jumped up, pushed past a rather smug Charles, and bolted up the stairs as fast as his weakened legs could carry him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hank did not speak a word during dinner.

At first, the other tried to coax him out of his silence, particularly Erik, who kept throwing mean comments his way until Charles kicked him under the table and effectively shut him up. Hank continued to stare pointedly down at his plate, pushing most of his food around rather than eating it. He would not look up, not even when he heard a comment from Raven spark Alex's laughter. Soon, dinner conversation continued as though he did not exist. The only person ignoring Hank as well as Hank was ignoring everyone else was Alex. Everyone noticed but Alex.

After dinner ended in awkward silence and everyone finally stood to leave, Charles pulled Hank and Alex aside.

“Hank, Alex is moving back in from the bunker tonight. He's moving back in to your room, and he's agreed to wear the battery shirt to keep us all safe tonight. Will he see you tonight?”

Hank muttered a quick no and left quickly for the lab.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He worked until about 3 am before deciding it was time to go to bed. He would have stayed up later, but he had dozed off whilst welding and had burned his hand and jaw. After that he figured it was time to go to bed.

He trudged up the stairs and quietly clicked open the door to his room, something unconsciously reminding him to be quiet. He had stripped off his shirt, shoes, socks, and pants, and was just starting to pull his pajama pants on when the light flipped. Hank scrambled for cover on his bed and hid as he finished pulling his jammies on before looking to see who had flipped the light. Alex was watching him closely.

“You're up late.”

“As are you. I thought you'd be asleep.”

“So did I but I just... just couldn't sleep tonight. Why weren't you up here earlier?”

“I... I usually sleep in the lab but I just... I was too tired tonight.”

“That doesn't answer my question Hank.”

“I didn't want to come up. I wasn't tired.

“Liar.”

“Look, why does it matter to you anyways? I just want to sleep, ok? Go to bed Alex.”

“Fine, but first tell me what happened to your jaw and your hand.”

“I... I burned them, ok?” He couldn't lie to Alex like he wanted to. “I fell asleep saudering something. Its fine.”

Regardless, Alex was standing before him in a split second and pulling Hank's hand out from under the covers to look at it.

“You idiot, you should have dressed this at the least. Come here.”

Alex grabbed his other hand and pulled him up and towards the bathroom. He left Hank standing in the door to the bathroom while he dug around for a first aid kit. After finding it and diffing out burn cream, he pulled Hank, who was growing sleepier by the second, back into the bathroom and lifted him up onto the counter. Hank grunted in surprise as Alex wrapped strong hands around his thighs and lifted him effortlessly, sliding him onto the counter with ease. Alex seemed to have not noticed thought, because he immediately took Hank's hand and started dressing it. He smeared the cream on and wrapped it with gauze, pulling it just a bit tight. “You moron, why would you be so stupid.” he muttered, turning his attention to the long, curved burn tracing Hank's jaw.

“Careful there Alex, someone might think you care.” He was too tired to filter his thoughts.

“Of course I care.” Alex snapped. “You burned yourself, you're hurt. Why would you be welding anything when you knew you were tired?” his voiced dropped to a softer mumble. “Darwin wouldn't have been so stupid, and even if he had, at least he wouldn't be hurt.”

That was enough to push Hank over his already steep precipice of an edge. He gave Alex a hard shove into the wall and jumped down, storming from the bathroom.

“I don't give a shit about what Darwin would have done Alex. He's fucking dead, has been for almost a year. It doesn't matter what he did. Point is, I burned myself, it doesn't matter. Get the hell over it.”

He turned angrily on his heel, only to see Alex looking at him with a hurt, lost expression. The same look he had when Darwin had died. Hank's face fell as he realized what he'd done. He stumbled backwards for a moment before turning to run back to the bedroom, back to his bed, and curl into his sheets. He steadfastly ignored every sound but his own breathing when Alex came back into the room and tucked himself into bed. Hank slept that mind, but only with guilt. How could he find the peace of mind to sleep after what he'd done to Alex?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was like the last few months had never happened, like they were right back to the beginning. Alex steadfastly refused to talk to anyone, to say or do anything, to do anything other than sleep or cry.

Hank all but locked himself in his lab.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Alex started moving around again, but somehow almost everything reminded him of Darwin, and left him in a heap on the floor, crying and shaking. Charles made him keep the battery shirt on and pretty soon everyone just ignored his little tantrums.

Hank still stayed locked in the lab.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In late July, Hank caught a cold or... something. He was sick, fevered, shaky, and weak. By the time he got up the stairs to his room, he all but collapsed. Charles asked Alex to take care of Hank, on account of the other were too busy. He might have had to give a little push, and in the end, Alex had the vague sense he'd accidentally volunteered himself for something he felt like he shouldn't want to do.

He sat back in the chair next to Hank's bed and watched him. Hank rolled in his sleep and hugged the pillow gently to his chest, burrying his face in it, and muttering softly. Alex didn't listen much at first until he got the sinking feeling he couldn't ignore it as well as he wanted.

“Alex.” Hank mumbled.

“What? What do you want Hank?” he snapped.

“'m srry 'lex. 'm soory bout t'all. Didn mean t'be so mean.”

Hank wasn't talking to him.

“Dun fight me 'lex. Stay, lmme help. 'm srry 'lex.”

Alex couldn't take it. He watched as coldly Hank hugged the pillow gently, wishing deep down it was Darwin he was watching, not the 7-toed nerd.

“wish I could be your Drwin 'lex. Wish I could be 'im.” Hank yawned and Alex stormed from the room. He didn't check back in on Hank for a week. When he did, Hank was feeling better and ran straight past him for his lab.

~*~*~*~

After a moment, Alex followed him down. Hank looked at him with tired eyes.

“What do you want Alex? I have work to do.”

“You're not him.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You're not Darwin.”

Hank froze and turned around.

“Um...”

“I saw you with that stupid pillow Hank. That stupid goddam pillow. You're not Darwin,” he inhaled sharply, “and you never will be.”

Hank stayed in his lab for another two months, but not a single thing was done.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was as if neither of them existed to each other. Charles watched them with quiet resolve, trying to decipher what would be best to do. In the end, he let it lie, and advised everyone to just play along and keep their tempers reigned in.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

One night, Hank stumbled up the stairs to his rarely used bedroom and flopped down on the bed, not even bothering to remove his glasses. He was seconds away from sleep when a quiet whimper woke him fully. He looked around. Alex was laying curled into a small ball on his bed and shaking violently. Hank had forgotten they shared the room. He hadn't been up there in months. Seeing Alex brought back his words. You will never be Darwin. They stung him almost as bad now, maybe worse because now he wanted so badly to be Darwin, to wake him from his nightmares and be the one he was looking for. But he wasn't.

Alex's shaking grew more violent and he started thrashing. He his his hand on the bedside table but still didn't wake. He kicked his foot through the window and still, he didn't wake. Hank got up slowly, watching with sadness as Alex fought against night terrors. He wandered closer to Alex's bed, avoiding a flailing hand. After a minute, his mind had made itself up.

He slid in behind Alex, pulling the covers back over them and ignoring an elbow to his gut. He struggled for a minute before finally locking his arms around Alex like a cage and tangling their legs together, stilling Alex who now reverted to full-bodied sobs.

Alex stilled after about 20 minutes.

“You're not Darwin.”

Hank wanted to let go right then, but all he could bring himself to do was nod into Alex's shoulder blades and mumble a soft “I know. I know I'm not.”

“You're not Darwin...” Alex continued. “But you'll do.”

They fell asleep, Hank was even kinda smiling.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Alex was gone when Hank woke. He sluggishly pulled on clothes that smelled clean and tumbled his way down the stairs. No one was up yet but Alex, who was sitting in the kitchen looking out the window.

“Um... Goodmorning?” Hank said quietly, reaching for the kettle.

“Thank you.” Alex said after a long pause.

“What? Why? What for?” Hank turned to look at him, ignoring the kettle.

“Thank you for... for helping. I didn't mean to yell at you, I really didn't, but I... I was so mad.”

“You were right Alex, I'm not... him.” He said it almost reverently, and it hurt.

“No Hank, you're not. You're Hank. You're smart, you're, in a dorky way, sorta cool. And you're very kind. I... I can't...”

He seemed to choke on his own words for a moment.

“I can't get Darwin out of my head. I mean... I couldn't until... it was...”

This time, Alex actually looked at Hank.

“I didn't need him last night. I needed you. And I didn't know it until you were there. I'm... I'm sorry about what I said.”

Hank's expression, at first glance, was blank. When Alex looked closer, he could see the slight tension in his lips, the widened eyes, the minute taught pull of his jaw. He looked startled.

Alex looked down at his hands and arms where they rested on the counter.

“Say something Hank.”

“I... Why don't you just... why don't you just let go? I mean...”

“You don't know why I can't?”

“No, no its not that. I can understand, I really can, I think about it all the time, I just mean... you need to let go. For you. Its obviously not doing you any good to keep hanging on. It was almost 2 years ago Alex. There's other things to be done now. You can't stay stuck like that. It just... it won't help.”

“I know.”

“Then let go.”

Alex stood and left the kitchen. Hank made tea and didn't see him the rest of the day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hank was almost afraid to go to bed that night. He almost slept in the lab. Almost.

Outside his door, he knocked quietly before pushing it open. He stripped quickly, pulling on his pjs and nothing else. It was a warm night. He didn't even really want covers. No sooner had he laid down than he heard Alex.

“Hank?” His voice sounded broken.

“Yeah Alex?”

“I... I need you.”

“Ok Alex.”

Hank stood and moved his way through the dark room towards Alex. He nervously slid into the covers behind Alex and gently wrapped his arms around him, holding one arm around Alex's stomach and moving the other so that it pillowed his head and stretched across his chest. To Hank's surprise, Alex was shirtless too, and his hands grappled at Hank's arm before settling and clinging to him tightly. Hank felt tears pool in his elbow and felt Alex shaking quietly.

“You have to let go.”

He turned his head in towards Alex's shoulder left it there, breathing deeply and leaving the faint whisper of lips on his shoulder. Not a kiss, really, just a presence. Alex's crying stopped and his breathing evened out until they were both asleep. Alex was still there in the morning.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that afternoon, Charles approached them as they watched tv.

“Hank, Alex.” He said, nodding curtly. They both looked to each other then up to him.

“I'm moving you to a new room. New students and all that. Erik will help you find it this evening. Thank you!” He was up and gone before either could ask questions, not that they had a whole lot.

Until later that evening.

“Erik, what is this?” Hank asked, appalled.

“You're new room, genius, get used to it.”

“But there's only one bed.” Alex choked out.

“That would seem to be the case yes. Don't worry boys, we're all making sacrifices. Even Charles and I.”

At that, he winked, grinned his big, sharky teeth, and left.

“I'll sleep on the couch in the corner.” Hank said softly.

“No.” Alex's protest was almost to immediate. “I... we can... share.”

He didn't need to say any more.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Both Hank and Alex were sure to mentally cuss out Charles every chance they got, although after a week or two of his infuriating, knowing laughter, they both decided it wasn't really worth the effort, and they weren't even maybe all that mad.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A student joins the school who has a mutation much the same as Darwin's. The other students take to calling him Evo (ee-voh), for evolution. Alex doesn't want to even leave they bedroom.

“Alex.”

“What?” He sounded sour.

“You have to get up. There's work to do.”

“What could I possibly need to do that would require walking around today.”

Hank furrowed his brow. “Oh bloody hell I don't know, just get your ass out of bed.”

“No.”

“Fine, then I'm staying in until you get over this ridiculous... I don't even know what it is... mood? Attitude? Whatever. If you're not getting out of bed, then I'm not either.”

“Don't be ridiculous, you have a class to teach.”

“Forget class, I'm not going until you quit pouting.”

“I'm not pouting.”

“Yeah well you're certainly not moving forward. Why do you have to see Darwin in Evo?” he cringed at how stupid that sounded, and how Alex frowned as he said it. “Get past it. Be happy for a kid learning to use an amazing mutation. See him, not Darwin.”

The argument seemed useless and elicited no response. Hank climbed back into bed with him and pulled him close. It was only then that he noticed the wetness on Alex's cheeks. He turned him around so he could look at Alex.

“Hey, why are you so upset? I thought you were going to get past it? What's this kid got you so unraveled for?”

“I just... Darwin could have been his mentor, ya know? He could have taught him. So much.”

“Yeah, but what relevance does that have now? What good is it going to do anyone thinking about what a dead man could have done?”

Alex looked up at Hank, at his honest, caring eyes, his soft lips, his kind face. He was right. It hurt, knowing Darwin would be gone, but it didn't hurt like it used to, like he thought it should still. Now it wasn't so much a throbbing, aching loss as much as it was a longing for closeness he didn't have. He wanted Darwin, yes, but that was back then. Now, what he was really mourning, was the loss of the bit of his heart Darwin had kept filled. On that small epiphany, Alex leaned forward and gracefully, sweetly, chastely kissed Hank.

“What was that?”

“I'm moving on.”

“So I'm just a long-overdue bounceback?”

“No.”

“Then what am I Alex?”

“You're... the future.”

This time, Hank met Alex half-way. This time, Hank kissed back.

This time, all Alex wanted wasn't Darwin. All Alex wanted was Hank.


End file.
